Just Another Kid
by MatureImmaturity
Summary: A lone Ravenclaw feels insignificant until a confrontation with the headmaster proves to her that he cares for all his students. One-shot fic. Some spoilers for GoF.


**Just Another Kid**

          I pass them in the corridors; they don't even acknowledge me. No one pays any attention to the lone Ravenclaw second year, especially not the 'Troubled Trio', as I have come to refer to the three fourth years as. The few friends that I have tell me to stay away from those reckless Gryffindors, to get back to my studies, but they don't understand. All I want is recognition. Even something from _Snape _would be nice. But alas, Snape just despises Ravenclaws because we actually _understand_ the potions.

            As I walk to the Great Hall for lunch on a Friday in December, I shake my head and glance up at the staff table to the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. _What has our **great _headmaster ever done for me? _I wonder. _He always talks to **them, **but to everyone else, he's this huge mystery. _I sit down at the Ravenclaw table, still staring at him. Then, as if he could sense my eyes, Dumbledore turns and looks straight at _me. _I am sure he is looking at no one else. My bright green eyes widen; I turn to my food quickly, and my long brown hair swishes over my shoulder. But as I eat, I get the feeling he has not stopped gazing at me.**_

            After lunch, I have Charms, so I march dutifully in the direction of the class room, only to be stopped in my tracks by Jessica Warbledorf, a Hufflepuff who I am not the best of friends with. I am already late, and there is no one else in the corridor, so I try and make the encounter short.

            "Emily Dobbsworth. Well, isn't this a wonderful meeting?"

            "Out of my way, Warbledorf."

            "Oh, using last names, are we? Why Emily, I'm shocked at you. You don't even have the grace to say my first name."

            "You see Warbledorf, I would, but then my mouth would be fouled up with filth, and I need it clean to pronounce charms. So if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."

            I push past her but am stopped again by a well-placed Jelly Legs Curse. Knowing the counter curse, I am back to normal and turn around to face her.

            "No one talks like that to Jessica Lynn Warbledorf, heir to the Warbledorf line, as close to pureblood as you can possibly be without—"

            "Maybe you should have been in Slytherin, then."

            She gasps.

            "How dare you suggest such a thing! I will have to teach you a lesson in manners, Dobbsworth!"

            "You couldn't teach Professor Dumbledore a Levitation Spell."

            "That's it!" she cries, pointing her wand at me. "_Imperio!"_

I jump aside just in time to see the curse fly past me towards a suit of armor, turning back to Jessica with a horrified look on my face.

            "How do you know an Unforgivable?"

            She smirks.

            "You've forgotten, haven't you? You know that new DADA teacher? Moody? He showed us all _three_ of the Unforgivables."

            "But surely you're not supposed to _practice _them?"

            "Who says I'm supposed to? I'm just having fun watching you jump around a bit."         

            My eyes narrow against my olive skin.

            "You want to have fun, Warbledorf? Fine, let's have some fun. _Petrificus Totalus!"_

            She is on the ground in seconds. I walk over to her and bend down. 

            "Guess the Warbledorf line didn't teach you much about blocking, did it? See you later."  I walk off to Charms, already late, but I don't care. I have wanted to vent some anger at Jessica for some time now, and  I have finally done it. 

            Earning a detention for my antics, I remind myself not to make any plans for Saturday as I walk out of Charms toward the dungeons, where I have Potions next. Too bad, since Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have Potions together, I have to see Jessica again, that is if she's up by now. But as soon as I enter the dungeon, I get a surprise. 

            Professor Sprout and Jessica are standing by my usual seat, both looking cross. Cautiously, I advance to see what they might want. Professor Sprout speaks first.

            "Ms. Dobbsworth, is what Ms. Warbledorf telling me true?"

            "Um, what is she telling you, exactly?"

            "She tells me that while she was walking in the corridor towards her next class, you attacked her, bent on revenge of some sort."

            I am about to yell and screech and make a great racket about how Jessica is a filthy liar, but that will get me no where.  Jessica is the equivalent to ten teacher's pets'. She can get virtually whatever she wants, whenever she wants. All the teachers adore her, except for Snape of course, but he doesn't adore anyone. So, giving up, I reply,

            "Yeah, I guess that's right then."

            Jessica smirks evilly, reminding me of one of the Gringotts goblins.

            "Well then, we will have to take the matter to Professor Dumbledore."

            I gape.

            "What?"

            "Dueling and or using magic in the corridors is strictly prohibited. Unless that's not what happened?"

            I cast my eyes down to the floor.

            "Alright then, come along you two. Professor Snape, these two are excused from class until further notice."

            Professor Snape nods slightly, and then goes back to teaching the class. The three of us walk swiftly out of the dungeons and up to an ugly looking stone gargoyle. I wonder when we will get to Professor Dumbledore's office when Professor Sprout says simply,

            "Lemon drop."

            I am about to tell her that this is not the time to be thinking about sweets when the gargoyle moves aside to reveal a moving spiral staircase. Jessica and I get on, but Professor Sprout does not. We move away quickly and the professor only gets in a few words before the gargoyle moves again.

            "I trust you can tell him what happened . . . ."  The rest of it fades off into a mumble, so whatever she said; I hope it was not that important. An oak door comes into view before us, so we hop off the staircase and I knock.

            "Come in," comes the voice of Dumbledore through the thick door. I gulp and walk in, Jessica following behind me. Professor Dumbledore smiles at us both, motions for us to take a seat, and leans forward on his desk. "What can I do for you, Ms. Warbledorf, Ms. Dobbsworth?"

            I sigh, knowing that whatever I say, it will be challenged, whatever I do, it will be contradicted, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.(etc.) So I sit back and let Jessica spew her lies to the supposed _great _Albus Dumbledore.

            "I was just heading to my Care of Magical Creatures classes after lunch, Professor, and she _attacked _me! Out of no where! I think she has some issues that I'd be willing to talk out with her, but Emily's so violent!"

             She breaks down into sobs so phony that I bet even Professor Binns can tell the difference. Professor Dumbledore simply smiles sadly and stands up behind his desk.

            "Ms. Warbledorf, could you step outside for a moment? I need to talk to Ms. Dobbsworth alone, maybe see if I find the source of this anger."

            I snicker softly as Jessica leaves, still putting on the act. Dumbledore sits down again, this time in the chair next to me, the one Jessica just left. I prepare to have my head bitten off by yet another teacher who hates to see their precious 'Ms. Warbledorf' upset in any way. There is no shouting. I look up . . . and straight into those twinkling blue eyes behind the spectacles, the eyes that match the smile. I cannot look away now; he holds my gaze.

            "Do you think I am old, Ms. Dobbsworth?"

            This is such a straight forward question that I don't know what to say for a time. When I regain control of my voice, I still sputter and stutter like a creaky old automobile engine. (I'm Muggle-born.)

            "Well, um, that is to say, uh, in comparison to what, headmaster?"  I haven't made a _complete fool of myself. He keeps smiling, and his smile actually seems to grow larger after I finish speaking._

            "Anything, my dear."

            "Um, well, yes, wait, uh, no?"

            "It's not nice to lie, Emily." 

            Now he's got my attention. The only people who call me Emily are sitting on their bums in 'merry old England', drinking tea and wondering when it will stop raining. (Who, if you haven't figured out by now, are my parents.) My friends simply call me Em.

            "I may be old, but believe I'm smart enough to remember class schedules and the name of every student that enters this school."

            _What is he getting at?_

"This means that Ms. Warbledorf was obviously lying. Second year Hufflepuffs do not have Care of Magical Creatures after lunch, they have Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why didn't you say anything?"

            I am taken aback. Here is the headmaster, _not _biting my head off, _not _giving me detention, and _asking _me to speak against 'Wonderful Warbledorf'.

            "Well, headmaster, I didn't think you'd believe me. I mean, with Jessica's reputation—"

            "Reputations are over-rated, my dear girl. After all, Harry Potter is just a normal teenager like every other teenager in the school. The only reason everyone knows his name is because of a scar, which he does not even remember getting. I would think he would give all that up to just be normal."

            "Yes, but . . . um . . . anyway, Jessica attacked me first. I was only trying to get to Charms class and she was in the way."

            "I believe you, Emily. The moment I saw the smug look on Ms. Warbledorf's face, I knew that the blame lie with someone else."

            "Soooooo . . . I'm gonna get off?"

            His eyes twinkle some more.

            "I'm afraid I can't let you 'get off', as you put it. Ms. Warbledorf would undoubtedly go to her parents and tell them some fantastic story that would probably include more things than she has just told me. So, this is my proposal. One Saturday a month, you will come up to my office and we will discuss matters of school, play a game of chess, or whatever is most appropriate at the time. I should think tomorrow would be a good time to start. Just tell Ms. Warbledorf that you will have to continue seeing me for the rest of the year. It is not lying, and I am sure she will use her imagination. Do we have an understanding?"

            I am overcome with joy, a feeling I have not experienced lately.

            "Y-yes, Professor Dumbledore."

            He leans back in his chair, looking pleased.

            "If we are to become more than headmaster and student, I am sure we can get past the titles. Call me Albus."

            _This is unexpected. Never the less, I merely nod my head in semi-shock and we both stand._

            "Then I will see you tomorrow, around six o'clock?"

            "Yeah, sure."

            "Excellent! Then I believe you have Potions class, as does Ms. Warbledorf."

            I groan. Knowing Snape, he'll test us on stuff from that class that I haven't learned. _Guess I'll be reading more into my Potions textbook, then. I walk over and open the door, only to see Jessica standing there, looking disappointed. _Albus _(it feels odd to say or even **think** that) _must have put a silencing spell on it. _But when she sees my face, her own lights up._

            "What do you have to do?" she asks, almost bouncing with excitement. 

            I give an exasperated sigh that sounds so real, I almost mistook it for the real thing myself.

            "I have to continue seeing Al--, Professor Dumbledore for the rest of the year. Real bummer, huh?"

            "Yeah," she says snickering, "real bummer." She skips away and I follow at a slower, loping pace, knowing that the headmaster is no longer a mystery, and will never be one to anyone who needs help or consolation.


End file.
